Gone To The Dark
by lotsa-ppl-luv-me
Summary: Hermione feels that she should be dark. She wonders why. She finds out and slowly, very, very slowly, she starts to fall in love. But who will it be with? T because i don't know where it'll go. Disclaimer:i don't own harry potter that's JKR.
1. Chapter 1

**Gone To the Dark**

_**Chapter 1: The Beginning**_

The long dark corridor seemingly stretched on forever until it got to the huge wooden door. One Hermione Jean Granger was heading down that hallway surrounded by a dozen people that, three years ago, she would've been killing. But today it was the exact opposite of what she was doing.

_(Flashback)__**Back when her, Ron, and Harry had been searching the country for Horcruxes is when this feeling had started. The feeling of darkness, despair, and a bit of happiness at it all, wrapped up in one. When Harry said they were going to break into Gringotts and she brewed the Polyjuice Potion for the second time in her life something must have gone wrong.**_

_**She had gulped down the potion and felt the same sensation as she had in second year. Then, it changed something on her left arm burned and she fell to the ground. It felt as if the Cruciatus Curse was being repeatedly cast on her. Finally, it stopped and Hermione stood up. She stumbled over to the vanity and looked in the mirror. She had to stifle a scream. Of course, she knew that she would end up looking like Bellatrix Lestrange but she never imagined she would look this much like the woman. Hermione had then dressed in the robes and walked outside to greet Harry, Ron, and Griphook. **_

_(End Flashback)_

Something had most definitely gone wrong with the Polyjuice Potion. Even after they'd gone through the waterfall that lifted the charms and Polyjuice Potion, Hermione still felt a connection to the dark side. And now she kind of new why.


	2. Chapter 2

**Gone To the Dark**

_**Chapter 2: The Initiation**_

"Mudblood," his cruel, cold voice hissed across the room. "Do you really think that I want you to join my army?"

"Listen, _Voldemort_," a few Death eaters flinched when she said his name. "I absolutely _hate _Harry bloody Potter now. You might or might not know what he did but just accept me into your army."

He sneered. "Alright, Mudblood Granger I'll let you, but only if you help us infiltrate the Order of the Phoenix and kill Harry Potter," he smiled. It was a terrifying thing, his smile. "You will be our...Special Force."

"Yes, of course, My Lord," she bowed.

"Follow me this way, Granger."

Lucius Malfoy stepped out from behind Voldemort and grabbed the sleeve of Hermione's robe and began dragging her toward a dark, black doorway.

Voldemort followed her into the room. Lucius stepped out and shut the door, leaving her and Voldemort alone.

"Now, Granger, you must tell Potter and Weasley that you have bought a new home, but you cannot tell them where it is."

"Where will it be?" she asked. After all, she always asked questions.

"Do not interrupt me. You will be living in my mansion as..." his cruel lips curved into a wicked smile, "My own personal servant."

"No!"

"Yes. Your Dark Mark will be different from everyone else's. It will be small and out of sight. Somewhere you don't normally show anyone. It will be Special. It will work like if I want you it will burn like a normal one. If you would have to call me for some information, I will be notified and a sort of lens will cross my eye so I can see what you see."

"Yes, fine, my lord."

"_Vegrandis nex morsus vestigium_," Voldemort said. He pointed his wand at the spot over her heart.

It grew warm and then colder and colder until it was freezing cold. It finally faded back to a normal temperature.

"There, now you have the Dark Mark. Here are your new robes."

He threw a bundle at her and left the room.

Hermione began to strip off her clothes. When her shirt was off she looked down and saw that the tattoo was stretching down to about her belly button. The skull and snake part of the Dark Mark was on her chest the rest was just a detailed design.

She looked at it. It looked pretty. She pulled the robes on and walked out of the room.

**AN: please review! I know Hermione is kind of AU but you never know what if she did do something wrong that caused her to be left like this?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Gone To the Dark**

_**Chapter 3: Interruption **_

"And this is your room, Miss." The young girl threw the door open.

"It's kind of small, isn't it?" she asked.

"Oh, silly Miss. This is not your bedroom; this is your sitting room." She pointed at a door on the opposite side of the room. "Through there is your bedroom."

"Thanks, Ayesha." Hermione stepped into the room and shut the door in the small girl's face.

For such a huge mansion, Voldemort's home was quite vacant. She had only seen a single painting in the entire home and only a half-dozen pieces of furniture.

She dropped her luggage on the Oriental rug and a huge cloud of dust rose out of it. She coughed and made her way over to her bedroom door.

The first thing she saw was the huge, floor to ceiling window. "Wow," she gasped. She looked around the rest of the room. There was a walk-in-closet, a bathroom, a black marble fireplace, a small reading nook, and a balcony.

"Wow."

"Do you like it?" A voice behind her hissed.

She whipped around. Voldemort was standing in her sitting room next to her luggage. "Yes, I ... I love it."

He hissed. "Love is for those who have nothing to do with their lives. I suggest that you do not waste your life and smart mind on _love_." He sneered at the word.

"I have no one to love, my Lord. They have all betrayed me in the end."

"You have learned well. I learned at a very young age that anyone you believe you love will betray you." He smiled his chilling smile. "Dinner will be ready in about an hour. I will send a servant for you when it is ready. Don't be late." He turned and swept out of the room, causing another trail of dust to fly into the air.

"Well, alright then. I guess I better decide what to wear." She grabbed her bags and dragged them to her closet. When she opened the door she saw that it was already half full of clothing.

Hermione pulled at one and saw that it was a knee length black dress. She pulled it out and looked at it. It was gorgeous. She decided to wear it. She found some black heels and pulled those on.

About thirty minutes later someone knocked on her door. Hermione stood and answered it.

It was Ayesha. "Dinner is ready, Miss." She curtsied. "Master, is expecting you immediately."

"Alright." She stepped out into the corridor and closed the door behind her. "Lead the way."

The girl curtsied again and began walking down the corridor to a large and grand staircase. They descended and crossed the Entrance Hall to the dining room.

"Here it is, Miss." Ayesha opened the door and Hermione walked inside. The room was unexpectedly bright.

She found that it wasn't just her and Voldemort; the Malfoy family was there too.

"Welcome, Granger. Dinner will be served in a few moments. Sit, please." Voldemort said.

She sat down at the head of the table then looked up. Draco Malfoy was staring at her. She smirked. Malfoy had always believed she was ugly because he'd never seen her out of the disgusting school uniforms.

He started and turned away from her.

"Dinner's ready." Voldemort stated. He motioned towards the doors and a parade of house elves come through the doors carrying trays.

The feast began.

**xXx**

The feast had been over for nearly two hours now, and Hermione was reading a book on a couch in her sitting room. Voldemort and the three Malfoys were in a meeting and Hermione had not been invited to join which she thought was incredibly stupid because she was, after all, one of them now.

She was reading _Wuthering Heights _and she was nearly done. Someone knocked on her doors. "Come in!"

The door opened and a familiar blonde head peeked in.

"What do you want, Malfoy."

"Not much, Granger. Just wanted to pop in and say hello and to see your suite."

"Well, you've seen it, you've said hello, and now I'm saying goodbye." She hopped up and began to close the door.

"Wait, wait, wait. I want to talk to you."

"_You_ want to talk to _me_?"

"Yeah, I was wondering... why did...he...make you one of us?"

She was confused. Draco Malfoy, muggle-born hater, wanted to talk to her, a muggle-born.

"Um... it was because I told him that I hate _Harry Potter_ and I will do anything it takes to rid this world of him." She sneered at the name Harry Potter.

Draco moved into the room and sat down on her couch. "So now you hate, Potter. Not that long ago you were defending him with your filthy life."

"Well, Draco Malfoy, times change and people change. I'm sure you will learn that eventually."

"Yeah, yeah I know how you think that you're so much smarter than me. But, trust me, you have a lot of things to learn, too, Granger."

"Like what?"

He raised his eyebrows. "I think you know _what_."

Her mouth popped open. "Vile." she hissed and shoved him away.

"Come on, Granger. It's the only thing you haven't learned."

"And how do you know that I haven't 'learned' yet?"

"Have you?"

She blushed. "No."

"I knew you were still a virgin."

"Malfoy, I'm not going to do anything with you."

"Granger, I never said I wanted to have sex with you. Trust me, I don't."

"Alright, then. Goodbye, Draco."

Hermione stood up and began dragging him toward the door.

"Wait, Granger." He grabbed her arm and pulled her close. Then, Draco Malfoy kissed her.

**AN: Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Gone to the Dark**

_**Chapter 4: Transformation**_

WARNING: This chapter contains more words than all three previos chapters combined!

She pushed him away. "I don't want to kiss you, idiot!" she opened the door and hissed a spell that threw Draco from the room.

The door slammed shut and Draco started yelling at her through the door. "Granger, what the heck, let me back in! The Dark Lord has a message for you!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Draco, you don't have to be in the room for me to receive the message. Just tell me," she said.

"I can't someone might hear it! I have to be inside! Please, Granger?"

She growled in annoyance and opened the door with a flick of her wand. Draco tumbled in and landed in a heap on the floor.

He quickly got to his feet and then grinned. "Don't growl like that. It'll only provoke me."

"What's the message?" she asked as Draco walked over to the couch and flopped onto it.

"Well, the Dark Lord demands that you go and meet him. Not in the meeting room but in his chambers." He wiggled his eyebrows.

"You're so weird, Draco, now get out," he stood and strode out of the room. "By the way, will you show me how to get there? I don't know the way." Draco smirked and pulled her down the corridor.

They eventually arrived at the door to Voldemort's chambers and Hermione waved Draco away with a quick 'thanks'.

She raised her small hand and knocked on the door. "Who is it?" Voldemort's voice hissed from inside.

"It's Hermione."

"Alright, come in."

The door creaked open and the first thing Hermione noticed was the huge wall of windows. The second was Voldemort. He was sitting in a chair close to the fire.

"You wanted me?" she asked.

"Yes, I think you are wondering why I summoned you?" he asked. She nodded. "Well, Ms. Granger, I tire of this body and I would be pleased if I could resume the form of my teenage body. Could you possibly help me with this?"

"But that's not possible, is it? Right now you're, what, seventy-five years old? You would just resume that body wouldn't you?"

He shook his snake-like head and then said. "No, I would have thought that you would know this. I can restore that body by remorse. I have to regret all the people I have killed to create the Horcruxes. Doing so will destroy my them and restore my twenty-one year old body. Will you help me?"

"Yes, I suppose. I still don't understand how I can help you," she said.

"You must make me feel sorry for everything I've done. You are a talented witch and I'm sure that you will be able to do this one thing for me." Hermione bit her lip; she needed to think about it. The Dark Lord cleared his throat before saying one single word, "Please."

That one word changed everything. It was the first time she'd ever heard him use it. He'd always been so demanding and in charge of everything, never the one to ask for something. "Sure, I just don't know how to make you repentant." Then an idea popped into her mind. "There was this one spell that I read of once. It's an interesting spell. If I cast it on you, you will be able to sense the feelings of others around you. So if I put that spell on you then I felt rueful, you too would feel remorseful."

Voldemort thought about it for a moment then spoke, crushing that idea. "No, it must be my remorse."

Hermione huffed out a breath of air. "Well, did you ever, just once, feel a tiny bit sorry for any one of your victims?" she asked, looking into his red eyes.

"Well... there was one. I barely felt it at all. It was a long, long time ago. It was the second before I murdered the woman. I felt a flicker of something. You see, the young lady was near the end of her pregnancy and she wrapped her arms around her stomach protectively and I received a glimpse of an image of my squib mother doing the same thing. I realized that it was only one more child that would never see the light of this world, never feel the warmth of the sun or the breath of its mother, never hear the buzz of the bees or a sweet, caring voice. It would never take a breath of the sweet, earthly air." He shook his head.

Hermione could feel it; he was now feeling remorseful about killing that woman and her unborn child. "Were there ever any others?" She looked at his face, something was different. He didn't seem so...hollow.

"Yes, there was," He put his head in his hands and then continued, "The girl, the one in the bathroom. She was crying and I don't even know why. She was just there and I wanted to turn the diary into a Horcrux. She was terrified and I didn't know what else to do." He pulled away from his hands and Hermione watched as his skin darkened a bit, she could no longer see his veins running just beneath the surface.

"My father and grandparents, like they even knew who I was. Tom Riddle, Sr. was more surprised than either one of his parents. He had no idea that the filthy woman had even really been with child. I could've explained to them who I was, but I was so mad that I couldn't hold back anymore. I destroyed them. Afterwards, I just told myself that they deserved it, they never tried to come looking for me. But I really didn't need to have killed them, I could have had an actual home. They were my family." His skin began to fade into something that actually resembled skin.

"There was that old, fat woman... Smith. She had many valuable antiques. She favored me over Borgin. She was nosy and selfish; she never really wanted to give any of those objects away. I charmed them out of her. That last day, when I took the cup and the locket, I almost felt something for what I was going to do to her. She wouldn't ever give it to me unless I took her life. I never really would've done it if only she had never shown those two things to me." His hands were wrapped around his wand and as she looked at them, they seemed to shrink. Those long, spidery fingers weren't so long and spider-like anymore. His face wasn't that pained looking anymore.

"There must be more people." The curly haired young woman said.

He sighed but the list went on. "An old man sat in the Albanian forest once; he fed birds and helped the other people in the village he lived in. That night he never figured out what was happening. I was looking for the diadem and I had finally found it. I was excited; I had been searching for it for a long, long time. I heard something behind me and I turned and shot a Crucio at him. The old man screamed and screamed. They echoed in the forest, in my head, in my bones, yet I never stopped. He was begging for death with his eyes. But I did not stop dosing him with wave after wave of pain." Voldemort swallowed and shook his head. Hermione noticed his eyes weren't cat-like anymore and his mouth was not so pale. He was forming lips.

"Lily Potter. Her son was only one year old and I never intended to kill her, just the boy-who-lived but then that is not what he was known as yet. Severus had pleaded with me not to kill Lily, whatever I did, not to kill her. But I failed with that. Lily was beautiful, even I admitted that. I never meant to kill her when she wouldn't move out of the way of the crib; I simply was going to push her out of the way with a spell, but it never works like that, not for me. Before I knew it the word that slipped off my tongue was one that I had uttered hundreds of other times, but none of those times were like this one. There was a flash of green and she fell to the floor, never to rise again. I told myself that she should have moved; we could have avoided that whole thing if only she had surrendered her son to me." By that time, Hermione was crying and when she looked at the new transformation of Voldemort he was blurred by the tears.

Yet through those tears she could still see the handsome man in front of her. His eyes weren't scarlet, but they weren't dark brown either. Beneath those strange eyes, was a nose that was by no means reptilian. She continued down his face and saw a pair of lips; yes, Voldemort now had lips. They were beautiful lips, too. She couldn't take her eyes away from them.

She smiled; except for him being bald, he was almost back to normal.

The Dark Lord was still telling of his remorse. "Finally, there was Bertha Jorkins, the naïve, young woman who had traveled to Albania just as I needed one last soul. She is definitely not the one I would've chosen for the job. But Wormtail brought her and I was desperate. She was scared, I could tell, and she told me tales of what was happening in Britain. She spoke of the Triwizard Tournament and the idea began forming in my mind. She told me that she was here on vacation and she really wanted nothing more than to be home with her family, boyfriend, and friends. When it was her turn to die, I invaded her mind and saw images of her friends, family, and lover flashing through her mind: they were her life and I had taken them away. When the curse was shooting toward her she was scared worse than anyone ever before. But a few months later she helped me regain my body, this body, the body that I so desperately wish to leave behind, to escape." He finished. As he did, his eyes darkened a shade or two until they were a deep, murky brown, shrouding him in mystery. He had some more color in his face and He began to look younger and younger. Lastly, the crown of his head was covered in a shadow that formed into hair, which then covered the top of his head.

Hermione beamed. "It worked. You're back." She turned away to retrieve a mirror when she heard the grown. She whipped back around and saw Tom Riddle doubled over, grappling at his chest. Pain masked his handsome features and he gasped for breath.

Hermione reached a helping hand toward him and he slid out of the chair, onto the floor, and began convulsing. She retracted the hand and covered in mouth in horror. She watched as he managed to lift himself up only to retch all over the floor in front of him, spraying the antique furniture, before passing out.

**xXx**

Seven days passed by and Tom Riddle, Jr. had not yet regained consciousness and Hermione Granger had not left his side. The best medically trained Dark Witches and wizards had been trying to heal them, but they were all failing. Hermione normally dismissed them within an hour at the most.

She was sitting at his side and gazing down at his still form.

It had been _seven _days since he'd last spoken.

It had been _seven _days since she'd first seen Tom Riddle, Jr.

It had been _seven _days since she'd been helping Lord Voldemort, the darkest wizard in a century, become Tom Riddle, the handsomest wizard in a century.

Hermione reached out a small hand to brush a strand of his ebony hair out of his face. A hand shot up and grasped her wrist. She shrieked.

"Hermione?" he asked in a voice that was very, very much changed from the last time she'd heard him speak. It was a deep, male voice, not a snake-like voice at all.

"Yes, Master?" the brunette replied.

"Do I look ... different?" his eyes were still closed when he spoke.

"Yes, of course. You look, well, if I may ... you look hot." She instantly regretted saying it, fearing punishment.

Instead he chuckled. "Thank you. I have been told that many times. How many days has it been?"

"Seven, sir. Seven days. Very long days. Everyone was concerned and not a single Healer could figure out what was wrong." She said staring at his face.

"Yes, yes. Are you enjoying the view?" He cracked open one eye, grinning at her with his gorgeous smile.

The Gryffindor blushed, but answered the question with a quiet "Yes."

Tom realized that he was still holding her wrist at the same time that she did and he released it. Her limp hand fell down to rest of his chest. She quickly pulled it back into her lap where she clasped her hands together. The handsome lad sat up and was motionless.

They looked anywhere but at each other for a moment until both of them drifted back to each other's eyes at the exact same time. She was leaned forward a bit, having not moved since he grabbed her wrist.

A pale hand stretched out in front of him and he wiggled his fingers. It really was him; he was back in _his _body. He turned back to the young lady at his bedside. She was watching him with interest and he extended his hand toward her.

Tom Riddle's hand took Hermione Granger's chin in his hands and he drew closer and closer to her perfectly plump, pink lips...

**Please review! I'll update a lot sooner if you do. I mean, it's been **_**months **_**since I last updated! It was last year for Riddle's sake!**


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